Distorted Minds
by Dermatillomania
Summary: Everyone knew the Sabaku's were screwed. Everyone in school had a rumour to share about the freaky red head and his siblings, they just didn't know at what point their words had become the truth. /Sensitive subject matter/
1. Repulsive

**A/N: **Welcome to my latest fic. Warning: There will be a lot of sensitive subjects, especially in later chapters, a lot of foul language, and violence. Be open to anything happening. Anyhow, enjoy if you continue reading.

I do not own Naruto.

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**Chapter One**

**Repulsive**

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It was just another day.

Just another fucking day in this messed up world.

Ironic. Me, Gaara Sabaku, thinking of the world as 'messed up'. The world is screwed because people like me exist. Dark, twisted entangled lives only prevailing in bringing the rest of society into the abyss of torturous paranoia and depression. That's right, I am the fear in their eyes, when words become taboo and sweaty shivers reveal that I have created a phobia in every single one of them.

I sighed as I leaned my elbow onto my desk, shifting my eyes to the unfortunate students who were placed around me. They quickly turned their heads, and I had to laugh mentally. I wondered what went through their minds when they laid their eyes on me. Did they shudder at the sight of me, did they feel like gagging, did they want to cry?

I was sure of it. It's true, I'm a repulsive.. thing. Human? No, barely. Maybe a demon, devil. Satan. I've been called all of the above, multiple times. Sometimes I amused myself by walking into the local Church. Christ couldn't save me, because I sure did enjoy hissing when they threw holy water in my face. If only I could snap a picture of all their faces when I started to recite a Latin phrase in the most demonic my voice could sound, which was already somewhat demonic to begin with. _Diabolus est hic tecum! _Their expressions were devastatingly hilarious. Looking at them would make my fucking day.

Especially right now.

I grabbed an exacto knife out of my bag, putting the blade to the desk and carving yet another word into it. This desk would most likely be thrown out when summer came around, I'd done quite a number on it. Various different words were etched into the wood, _pain, death, Satan, fuck everyone, kill yourself. _I was sure the teacher thought I was fucked, too. Placing the knife down on the desk, I looked over my masterpiece. _Repulsive._ It was the word of the day. The word of my life.

I looked at those around me once more, my face it's usual blank state as they quickly turned their heads again. I waited, any moment, soon...

"Gaara."

Just as I predicted, the teacher called my name, and I would take my usual routine through everyone's desks to stand before her in all my glory. When I came to a stop, she gave me the same look she always did. Here it comes.

"How many times do you have to be told. Go to the principle, now."

Standing there, I stared at her for a moment, tilting my head slightly. Taking a step forward, I placed my hands on her mahogany desk, giving a malicious grin. She looked at me, baffled, and I leaned forward to shorten the distance between our faces. "I only have to be told as many times as you need to. I will bypass your mistake for today, however, ma'am, because I was dying to get the fuck out of here."

Her eyes were wide as I stuck up my middle finger, making my way out of the classroom. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I travelled down the quiet halls, scaring whoever happened to be walking my way. I considered the damage I had done already, would I make it worse? I sighed and stopped at the principles office, knowing I'd be setting my death bed if I left the school. I already caused enough shit in the last week, and my father wasn't too keen on my behaviour. Or me, at that.

Stepping into the all too familiar office, I took in my surroundings, only to feast my eyes upon the school clown. Standing in the doorway, I caught the attention of the one and only Uzumaki Naruto. As usual, his eyes were wide and pointed right at me. Even after all this time, he still couldn't get it right. He stared at me as I sat down, making me furious. Unlike everyone else, this kid always stared. I wasn't sure if he was mentally retarded, or if he just wanted to get the shit beaten out of him, but he didn't seem to realize I hated being outright stared at.

"Heh, my good ol' pal in crime."

For some reason, this shit face thought we were buddies. Just because we both ended up in the principles office, just because we spent more time being ridiculed than praised, just because nobody really liked him either. He was an annoying ass hole, and this wasn't some stupid fairy tale where two people who were hated found friendship in each other. "I'm not your fucking pal."

I need to get one thing straight; I'm nothing like this guy. Of course, we did have our similarities, but we're two completely different people. He caused shit to get attention, jumped around acting like a complete tool. I'm quiet, bubbling in my own misery, just hated because I'm not your average Joe. Yeah, the way I am and the things I do aren't really great things in society, but I don't attack if I'm not provoked.

"Man, you got a porcupine up your ass!"

I didn't find his joke funny at all, rubbing my temples as he laughed his ass off. I stared forward, trying to keep my mind off strangling the blonde buffoon. He stopped laughing to my relief, though leaned his head close to me and poked my arm. I just about punched him in the face, but I kept the best composure as I could, turning my head slowly to glare him down until he ducked his head in defeat and left me alone. Of course, it just wasn't my day.

"Hey, why do you wear so many elastics on your arm?"

I couldn't believe he had made it as far as he did. He was just lucky I couldn't smack his head off the wall while in the secretary's view. Looking down at my arms, I watched as he grabbed the closest one to him and pulled it closer to his face. The touch of his hands sent fire through my veins, grinding my teeth and clenching my fist as he examined my arm. Glancing at the secretary, I cursed mentally. Her eyes were right on me, almost threatening me. If I made one wrong move, I was done.

"Where'd you take these from, vegetables? ..Oh wow.."

I could feel him pull down some of the elastics, digging my nails into the arm of the chair and staring at the woman behind the huge desk. I contemplated the time it would take for her to get around it before pulling me off the stupid fool who was treading on thin ice. No, he was farther than that. He had cut a hole in the ice and was now fishing. I shut my eyes tight and hoped desperately for him to burst into flames. Why didn't anyone ever _assist_ me! They just allowed me to be poked and prodded until I lost it, then _punished_ me for reacting, and sent me home to be punished twice as hard. "Uzumaki.."

"I didn't think the fearsome Gaara cut-"

"Please." I interrupted him with a word I barely ever used, coming out in a raspy whisper. He stopped talking, letting go of my wrist and continuing to stare at me. I pulled my arm into my lap and curled my hands together, turning my head. Another rumour to be spread around about me. I wondered why everyone was so interested in talking about someone they either didn't give two shits about, hated, or feared. So many rumours had been spread about me it was a complete joke. No, it wasn't even a joke anymore, it was just mindless nonsense.

"Sorry.."

Just as I looked up at him, the principle came out and shouted his name, causing us both to jump and turn our attention onto her. I watched as he stood up, grinning sheepishly at me before disappearing into her office, the door being slammed by the fuming Tsunade, Ms. Dinosaur Tits. I slouched back in my chair, catching the secretary's eyes again and trying not to glare. She looked at me as if I was worse than the dirt on her highly expensive shoes.

"You're lucky you didn't try anything, Gaara."

I kept from telling her to go fuck herself, like I'd made the mistake of doing before. Last time I told her off, she relayed false information to my father about me setting the cafeteria's garbage on fire and trying to shove someone's head into it. Of course, my attempts to tell the truth only made me look like a liar and got me beaten three more times than I should have been. This school was sick. But of course, _I_ was beyond sick.

I could hardly believe I was the younger one in this scenario. In fact, I was surprised at my age in general. I didn't feel like a thirteen year old, not one bit. I could easily pass for an adult if it wasn't for my shorter than average and incredibly thin body. I don't even use the same vocabulary as almost every other student in this school. Sinking into my train of thought, one person in the school came to my mind. Shikamaru, the school's genius. He'd be someone I could have a decent conversation with, I'm sure, if it wasn't for the fact that he thought I was a freak. I had heard him whisper it on many occasions to his constantly eating friend, ducking his face when I dazzled him with my now famous death glare.

Brought back to reality by the office door opening, I looked up to see Naruto wave at me, leaving. I turned my gaze onto the principle, her eyes glued to mine and a finger beckoning me to enter. I stood, walking into her dreaded domain and sitting in that same metal framed chair that I find myself in a lot. Waiting for her to sit, I kept my eyes down, knowing better than to be an ass hole in here.

"So, the brat with the rich family thinks he can pull shit in my school and get away with it, huh?"

Her voice was demanding, bouncing off the walls and crash landing into my ears, making me squint at the floor. She started typing on her computer, and I knew what was coming, I'd been down this road enough times.

"Kurenai sent me an email about your _yet again_ disrespectful words and behaviour. Sabaku, who the hell do you think you are? You get no special treatment here."

"I know that." I was sure it would be obvious at this point that I got no special treatment at all, nowhere. Not home, not here, not anywhere. Sometimes I believe what they say about blondes, dumb as a stump. Both her and Naruto could go hit rocks over their heads and die.

"Then _why_ do you keep making the _same _mistakes!"

I closed my eyes as she shouted at me, holding onto the arms of the chair and lowering my head. I just wanted out of there as soon as possible, and that involved becoming submissive to defeat. I knew she was right, anyway. I was told to go to the office for vandalizing, but I made it worse by opening my mouth. I allowed her to continue on her tangent about me being a despicable child and waited for my freedom to come.

"It's lunch in five minutes, leave my office, and stop making it a habit to come back. You'll receive another phone home to that lovely father of yours."

I almost barfed at her choice of words, nodding and getting the hell out of there as quickly as I could. I bypassed the stupid bitch of a secretary, avoiding her hateful eyes and practically running out the door. Just as I got out, the bell rang, and hoards of students swarmed out of classrooms, laughter and squeaky footsteps, screams of joy. It all invaded my mind at once and I covered my ears, standing directly in front of the main office and shutting my eyes tight. I was usually in the safety of the back of the classroom or far from the school by this time, because the noise.

The noise.

Overwhelming noise. I might as well have had my head bashed in. Suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder, and I looked up, my eyes wide.

Whoever it was, they were going to die.


	2. Vomit

**A/N:** This story is a lot different from my other ones, definitely in later chapters. Please keep in mind that it may offend or trigger you, and as I said, be open to anything happening.

Anyhow, please enjoy otherwise.

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**Chapter Two**

**Vomit  
**

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Temari.

"Gaara! Hey, bro, get in trouble again?"

My sister was two years older than me, in the high school attached to the elementary one that I was in. She smiled deviously at me as I nodded, putting her arm through mine and helping me through the crowd. I was somewhat grateful she knew how I got in hoards of people, and also that she happened to be passing by at the right time.

"Come on, you can have lunch with me today."

I eyed people as they passed by, with my sister pulling me around it always seemed that I was even more noticeable. At least I wasn't alone, however, in this sea of faces. I wasn't sure where she was bringing me, I didn't really care but it was pretty rare for us to spend time together in school. I usually tried to keep home life.. well, at home. People seemed to be interested in talking about our home life, though, so whenever we were together, it was a big deal.

"Don't worry, we're almost out."

I kept my head down as we trudged through the school, finally looking up when I felt the freedom of fresh air. Letting go of me, Temari turned and gave me another smile, putting her hands on her hips the way she always did. I didn't smile back, crossing my arms and looking around us, glad to see the front of the school as empty as it was. "Is Kankuro coming?"

"Not today."

My older brother usually hung off our sister, and since he was one year older than me and also in high school, it was easy for him to. It was a surprise he wasn't eating with her, I knew he was here since we all walked to school together this morning, like we always did. I was intrigued to know if it was possible he found himself a friend, none of us seemed to have any friends. "Why?"

"He has to spend lunch in his wood shop class."

Ah, of course. I should have known better than to think any of my siblings could make any form of friendships, with the type of rumours that spread around us like wild fire. It just wasn't going to happen, not in this school. "Oh, I thought for a second he might of made a new friend."

"Haha! Yeah right, not in this poor ass school."

One of the biggest reasons none of us fit in was because this school happened to be in the ghetto, full of people who probably couldn't afford to go to college. We lived outside the ghetto, in a big house on a rich street. Everyone believed we were loaded in money, and thought it was ridiculous that we didn't go to the same private school everyone else on our street went to. The truth was; we had no money.

"Let's get pizza."

"Alright." I followed her down the steps and away from the school, feeling a weight lift from my shoulders as we got a safe distance from it. I wondered again why I couldn't just quit, answering my own thoughts with practicality. First of all, I'm too young. I'd have to be at least sixteen to even be able to consider it, and even then I'd need parental permission. As if my father would allow that. Second of all, even if I could, my father would beat me and throw me outside. He'd say 'Don't come back until you smarten up.'. Which reminds me that I'm going to get in shit when I get home later.

"What do you want?"

Temari's voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I quickly answered her before walking away and setting myself down at one of the tables. Staring out the large window, I watched people walk by and waited until my sister came to join me. A couple walked past the window, holding hands and laughing together. I turned my head in disdain, feeling even more alone and disgusting. Why couldn't _I_ have that? The ability to laugh, to feel good, and share that with someone else. Publicly, at that.

"Here,"

Temari sat with me, handing me a slice of pizza and a pop. She even gave me that garlic dip I liked, and I wondered if my sister was the only one who knew anything about me, even if it was just by paying attention to the things I did or liked. Was she keeping notes or something? "Thanks.."

"No problem, so why are you in trouble this time?"

I began eating, looking up when an 80's song suddenly seemed to blast out of nowhere. Sighing, I looked at my sister's amused expression, knowing she was probably laughing at me inside. "I scratched up the desk again and told the teacher off."

"Did you make a scene in the office?"

"No, I stayed calm." I said, thinking back to the blonde idiot who had made it a lot harder to keep cool. My sister gave me an impressed look, and I gazed down at the table. "An idiot in the office almost got me in even more shit. He kept poking me and asking me stupid questions."

"You should kick his ass."

"Yeah, I would have." I looked up at her again, sure that my eyes were spilling darkness enough to flood the room. I thought forward to when I'd be smacked around for ending up in the office again. "I couldn't afford to, though. Not today, I've already set myself up for a beating, if I did that I'd be setting my death bed."

"Maybe dad will be easy on you today.."

"Do you not know him at all?" I shot back, almost laughing at her, watching as she got a little uncomfortable in her chair. I knew, or liked to believe, that Temari didn't like our father hitting me. I had always wondered why she never tried to stop him, or help me, but I had to tell myself that it was just a matter of survival. My father only ever seemed to hit me, though, which really pissed me off. I'd seen him smack Kankuro in the head a few times, but I never witnessed him smacking his leather belt off his bare, raw ass. "You know he hates my fucking guts."

Temari sighed, and we ate in silence for a few minutes. Looking out the window again, I watched the people walk by, furrowing my brows as something was bothering me in the back of my mind. I tried to put a finger on it, but nothing. Temari stood, taking our plates and napkins to the garbage, and I got up as well. I stood there for a moment, staring at the floor as I tried to figure out what was bothering me.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head, holding the back of my chair and looking around the restaurant. She stared at me with confusion in her eyes, placing a hand on her hip and waiting for me to move. I let go of the chair and turned around, feeling as though I was forgetting something.

Then it hit me.

"Shit!" I ran out the door, hearing my sister call my name as she chased after me, her expression bemused at my sudden dismay. I knew she wasn't far behind me, my legs carrying me as quickly as they could back to the school. I couldn't stop, I absolutely needed to get back. I threw the front doors open, practically sliding down the hall and stopping at my last classroom's door. Agitated, I ran into the room, looking to where my seat was. Temari entered soon after me, looking at the teacher who was shouting something at me, but I was too preoccupied to hear her. "Oh no.."

"What!? Gaara what's wrong?!"

I walked to the back of the class, stopping and looking around once I got to my desk. Slapping a hand to my face, I felt so stupid. How could I let this happen!? This was _not_ good. I looked at my sister, my eyes wide, and when the teacher stopped spewing nonsense I knew that I probably looked threatening. "My shit's gone."

"What?"

"My shit is _gone_!" I shouted, putting my hands on my head and spinning around. The bell that signified lunch being over rung out, and I felt sick to my stomach. I started to wonder who could have my bag, the things they could find and read in it, and all the things that would end up flying through the school like a bird on speed. I couldn't believe it, I _never _forgot my bag. I had too much to hide in it, too many personal things in there. "Fucking _hell_!"

"Calm down, Gaara.."

I heard my sister, but I didn't listen. I couldn't calm down, how could I calm down there was _no fucking way _I could calm down. I paced in the small spaces between my desk and the ones around it, holding my head and tugging at my hair. I heard students start to enter the room, I felt their eyes on me. More and more of them came in, and I put a hand on my stomach. I could hear some of them laugh, and automatically I thought they were laughing at me. They all went through my bag, they all went through my private book and now they were all in my head. I could feel Temari get closer, and I put a hand on my desk, clutching at my belly.

"Gaara, come on.."

I heard her whisper to me, but it was too late. I grabbed my desk and felt the burning sensation of all my recently eaten food rising and flowing out of my mouth. I could hear girls gasp and squeal in disgust, guys make rude comments, and mostly everyone was yelling out words like 'ew' and 'gross'. I put a hand over my mouth, gagging into it and feeling embarrassed, becoming overwhelmed and throwing up into my hand, getting partially digested pizza all over myself and the floor. Temari didn't seem to know what to do, just watching me flounder about in my own vomit.

The whole room started to smell like tomato sauce and garlic, surely a beautiful thing to smell in puke. The scent made me feel even more sick, and I dropped to my knees, kneeling in my own barf and hurling some more. My sister backed up a bit, trying to avoid being puked on, and probably trying to figure out a way to assist me. By now there were at least thirty people in the room, all watching me from the front of the room. I already sickened people, so this probably wasn't going to give me friends any time soon. Just to my luck, I heard a familiar and obnoxious voice, praying for death at this point.

"Ewwww! Oh my god, Gaara! You threw up all over my spot! Jeez, I said I was sorry for looking at your cuts!"

I slowly got up, holding onto my vomit covered desk and looked up, quickly regretting that I did so. Everyone was staring at me in disgust, and my sister looked mortified. I glared at Naruto, making a mental note to find him after school and kick him right in his big mouth. How could I have expected him to be quiet about that, he proved himself way too stupid. Before I could spill the rest of my guts out, I pushed past my sister and the idiotic blonde, getting out of that classroom as quickly as possible. I held my stomach as I jogged through the hallway, trying to ignore every immature squeal that echoed around me.

This day couldn't get any fucking better.


	3. Pain

**A/N: **My apologies for the delay, I've got these few chapters here ready to upload, I don't remember writing them, but they are done. Just been quite distracted, going through a bit of a cancer scare. Anyhow! Here is the next chapter, I will be uploading the next one soon, if you're all still reading :). Enjoy!

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**Chapter Three  
**

**Pain**

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You could say I was pretty devastated.

Sitting in a bathroom stall, I leaned over the nasty toilet, wiping my face on my sleeve. I was still trying to get past the fact that my bag was gone, and that I had just thrown up everywhere in front of a whole class of people. My biggest mistake was running right after eating, but how could I help that? My life was just about to get ten times worse.

"Gaara?"

I heard the voice of my older brother, knowing my sister ran to get him after I had escaped into the men's bathroom. I sighed over the toilet, crossing my arms on it and leaning my head down. The sound of his footsteps echoed, making his way over to the only stall that was shut and locked. He knocked on the door, and I grumbled something he wouldn't be able to hear. I just needed to be alone, and right now he was useless, unless of course he was going to help me find a more secretive place to hide.

"We're going to take you home."

I wasn't sure if those words relieved me or worried me more. Slowly standing, I unlocked the door and opened it, staring up at my older brother with droopy eyes. He took in my appearance, scrunching his nose when the rancid smell hit him. I walked past him, getting to the sink and turning the tap on, washing my hands and face. Grabbing a paper towel, I started wiping the vomit off of my clothing, brushing off the crust and trying to get the stains out. Kankuro leaned against the wall, watching me with an odd expression. Finally, I gave up, throwing the paper towel in the garbage and walking by my brother.

I felt him follow me, stepping outside the bathroom and looking around for my sister. As I thought, she was right beside the door, holding her own bag and ready to go home. I turned my eyes to the floor, walking down the hall and out of the school. It was a long, quiet trip home, and I was anxious. I wondered what the school told my father, that first I vandalized, second I was disrespectful, third I barged into class and then barfed all over the place. What was he going to do to me today, punch me, kick me, smack my ass with a wooden spoon? The options were endless, he could do anything he desired, and the school just kept writing it off as violence on my behalf, as if I was getting myself into fights everywhere I went.

It was easy for them to turn their heads and ignore it, I was the worst of my siblings, and the only one who seemed to have marks on my body. I was the only one who talked back to the teachers, so I must have been getting punched at every corner of every street. So be it, they say. I deserve a beating, since that's all I ask for. I could have laughed in their faces, but that would only prove to get me in even more trouble.

We came up to the front of our house, and I dreaded the thought of walking through that front door. My siblings continued on, knowing my fate was set, but at least they were safe. I chewed my bottom lip, furrowing my brows as they opened the door and went inside. Following them, I quietly shut the door behind me, kicking my shoes off after they did. I knew my father was in the living room waiting for me, sitting in his lazy boy with a thick book in his right hand, his glasses halfway down his nose and a cigarette between the fingers of his left. The lights were dim, the smoke flowing in between the ceiling and the floor. I had memorized this image, since many times per week, I'd have to walk in and face him, holding my hands up in defeat and ready for punishment.

Holding my breath, I stood in the hallway before the living room, keeping my head down and waiting for his voice to welcome me in. My sister had already run up the stairs, and my brother was in the kitchen, obviously hungry since he didn't have lunch. I tried to keep my mind on these small details so I wouldn't obsess over what was going to happen soon, not that it ever really helped in the long run. I fidgeted with the rim of my shirt, knowing I was sweaty and gross, anticipating my doom. The suspense was killing me, I'd rather have had him walk up to my face and break my nose, just so it could be over with sooner. He seemed to be sadistic in that way, too, letting me hang from a cliff side for an hour before finally crushing my hands and watching me fall.

Just as I started to think I might actually be a free man tonight, I heard him clear his throat, a deep 'ahem' that signified that he would be calling my name soon. I scratched my head, picking the skin off my scalp and watching Kankuro walk by with a sandwich. He looked at me, giving a sorrowful expression before disappearing up the stairs. I could feel myself hyperventilate, shifting my eyes to every little thing around me. Then it came.

"Gaara."

I shut my eyes tight, my head pounding as I slowly walked into the living room where my father was. Sitting in his lazy boy, with a book and a cigarette, matching the same image every time. It was intimidating, and I wondered if that was his way of getting ready to show me no mercy. I looked at him for a moment, his dark eyes on me and making me look to the floor. I was a dog, one that just pissed all over the rug again, and I knew if I had a tail in this moment, it would be in between my legs.

"Look at you, you're a mess."

I didn't reply, knowing if I opened my mouth I would just make everything worse. Today was not a day to be testing my string of fate. My father liked it when I was quiet, sometimes he wouldn't beat me as hard if I cooperated.

"I heard you made yourself look like a fool, today."

I nodded silently, keeping my eyes to the floor and my hands to my sides. Soon he was going to stand up and hit me, soon this could be over with, soon I could sit in my room alone and wait for the night to end.

"Didn't we go through this yesterday."

"Yes, fath-"

"Then why are we here again!"

His voice was loud and I shut my eyes tight, my head down and my nails digging into my palms. My heart skipped a beat as I heard him stand from his chair, walking over to me in just a few strides. Another thing about my father that was intimidating; he was six foot four. I, on the other hand, am a lousy four foot ten. He towered over me, and I was like an ant under his shoe.

"Tell me, Gaara!"

"I-I needed space.." I stuttered, and even with all my preparations, I wasn't ready when he shoved his cigarette into my chest, burning through my shirt and my skin. The smell of burnt flesh surrounded us and I yelped, backing up into the wall and holding my new wound. I looked up for a moment, right as my father smacked me across the face with his hardcover book. Grunting, I fell onto the couch, tumbling from the couch to the floor when I tried to stand. I felt my father's foot kick me hard in the stomach, causing me to gasp for air and curl up.

"You need space? You need space, huh!? Get the hell up!"

He bent over and grabbed me, yanking me up and forcing me to stand. I stumbled, looking up at him, blood trickling from my nose and into my mouth. I cherished the taste for a moment, knowing my eyes were filled with hate, and looking into my father's was a terrible mistake.

"You little prick,"

He grabbed my shoulder and punched me in the gut, letting me fall to the floor again, turning around and walking back to his seat as I coughed up blood. I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to punch him in the face and mention his failure. I was doing a lot better in school than he ever had, he never even graduated and yet here I am getting punished. I held back a growl from my spot on the floor, clenching my teeth and wiping the blood from my chin.

"Go to your room and don't come out."

I got onto my hands and knees, huffing for a moment before straining myself to stand. I looked at him briefly, wanting to rip his eyes out as he started to read casually again, sitting in his seat and lighting up another cigarette. I started to grind my teeth, limping to the stairs and practically crawling up them. Stumbling down the hall, I made it to my room, slamming the door behind me and locking it. I was glad I had a lock on my door, even if it got me into more shit sometimes. It made me feel just a bit more secure, until my father counted down and kicked it in when I was too busy hiding under the bed to open it.

I let myself drop in the middle of the room, holding my stomach and sobbing. I hated this place, I hated my father, and I hated school. I hated being alive. I hated my family.

Tears poured down my face, pulling off all the elastics on my arms and crawling over to my dresser, opening the bottom drawer and digging through my clothes. I found the exacto knife I hid inside one of my shirts, lifting my scarred arm and putting the blade to my skin. Sitting there for a moment, I felt my head and body throb painfully, staring at the knife as I contemplated what I was doing. A sharp pain in my skull reminded me of my father, yelling and pulling the knife through my skin as the hate I felt took it's place in my blood.

Growling, I repeated these actions five more times before throwing the knife onto the floor and putting my face in my hands. My blood leaked down my arm and onto my pants, dripping onto the wooden floor. I cried, lowering my hands and watching the crimson gush out of those fresh open wounds. Sniffling, I grabbed onto the dresser, pulling myself off the floor and walking to the door. Unlocking it, I opened it as silently as I possibly could, sneaking down to the bathroom.

I locked myself in there as I cleaned my arm, finding the first aid kit and using the stitching tape to close my cuts. Staring into the mirror, I looked at the dark rings surrounding my eyes. My complexion was pale, just a little more so than usual. I frowned as I noticed the large bruise starting to form on the left side of my face, knowing the teachers wouldn't ask me about it the next day. According to them, it's more appropriate to ask me what's wrong when I show no visible marks. It's more unusual when I don't have a black eye.

I sighed, wiping the new tears from my face and exiting the bathroom, speed walking to my room and locking the door again. Sitting on my bed, I was ready to face the dark and sleepless night.

Alone.


	4. Misfortune

**Chapter Four**

**Misfortune**

* * *

White.

I kept the blank piece of paper in front of me on my desk, staring at it. I would usually bring out my sketchbook and stare at an unused page, in an attempt to clear or heal my mind. I needed to focus on it, the white abyss. I used it to help me into another realm, another dimension. This was another way I got through school.

With this white piece of paper, I wasn't Gaara anymore. I wasn't anything, I didn't need to be. The white proceeded to take over my mind and thoughts, leading me to a better place, even if it wasn't real. It felt real. Sometimes, I would become a nameless figure, flying through the sky with the wind scraping against my cheeks. I could swim through the ocean, I could run through a forest, it didn't matter. Anything was better than where I was right now, and this paper allowed my mind to go numb.

The end of each class came quick, and with nothing to pick up but my blank piece of paper, I was like a robot. From one class to the other, silent, emotionless robot. I was on auto-pilot, just going through the motions as my mind was somewhere better than this. Somewhere that I was capable of handling. I wasn't aware of any stares, or any words directed at me. I wasn't aware of anyone, I wasn't even aware of myself.

As soon as it started, the day had ended, and I was about to leave the last class of the day. I was still in my mind numbing fantasies, walking through the hallway silently, until someone stopped in my way. Being brought back to reality, I looked up, meeting the eyes of Sasuke Uchiha.

"Hey freak,"

He smirked at me, and I tried to move around him. He stepped in my way again, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to handle this right now. I prayed for my mind to escape again, but now it was stuck facing one of the most popular kids in school, the guy who always had at least three people behind him. As of now, I counted about seven. This was not good.

"Where you off to so quick?"

"Home." I said in a monotone voice, trying to walk around him again. One of Sasuke's lackey's pushed me back, and they surrounded me. I Inhaled deeply, looking at each of them before placing my eyes back onto Sasuke's. "What do you want."

"I want to play a game,"

I kept eye contact with him, standing completely still as he crossed his arms. I waited, hearing the rest of them snicker around me, listening to their quiet insults. Watching as the boy in front of me grinned and put his hand into his pocket, I pondered the many things he could possibly be about to do. When he pulled his hand out, I instantly looked at the piece of paper in his grasp, my heart starting to race.

"Let's just call it the Slave game."

I stared at him wide eyed, noticing that I was the only one in the hallway with these eight guys. I swallowed hard, dreading what he was going to say next, and it must have been obvious on my face. A loud laugh bellowed out of Sasuke's throat, and he opened the piece of paper, reading it over.

"You see, I found something in the back of our class the other day.."

No. Not _him._ Not Sasuke. In that very moment, I realized how much I actually cared what people knew about me. I realized now that my secrets were in the hands of _him_, I was actually afraid of everyone getting inside my head. I thought these things didn't matter to me, or at least I had myself convinced that I didn't care about what people said or knew. I was so stupid, why the hell would I keep secrets if what other people thought didn't bother me?

"I took it home with me and went through it, and I found out a few things that I know the whole school would love to hear."

"No.." I gasped out quietly, looking to the floor in an attempt to hide what everyone around me already saw. I knew they already had me, and whatever Sasuke wanted, I'd have to comply with. I felt humiliated, afraid, my heart was pounding fast and I was dizzy. I wished that somehow, someway, I was just stuck in a nightmare, in my bed, sweating in my sleep. I hoped I would awaken soon and this would be over.

"Actually, yes, and Gaara, if you want to save yourself, you're going to have to do everything I say, when I say it."

I stared at my feet, scared that I could faint any moment. Of course this was happening to me, it was no surprise that the most liked guy in the whole school had gotten a hold of my bag when I lost it two days ago. Who would have thought he'd black mail me! Of course not, why would that ever happen. I started to grind my teeth as I had the habit of doing, clenching my hands into fists and trying to breathe properly.

"You're going to be my little slave."

I closed my eyes as they all laughed at me, putting my hand on my arm and tugging at my long sleeve shirt. I snapped my head up when I felt a hand on my face, backing up a little and being pushed forward by the guy behind me. Sasuke grabbed my arms and grinned in my face, and I lowered my head to hide it, the pressure of his grasp making my wounded arm throb.

"I know how you got that bruise on your face, Sabaku. If you want to keep your secrets safe, you'll meet me at lunch tomorrow in the cafeteria and follow along with our little deal here. Got it?"

I was silent, my mind everywhere and trying to somehow get out of this. There was no way, though, and I knew I was done for. Sasuke shook my arms, digging his fingers into them and smirking in my face. He knew everything. It was sick and twisted, but this guy had just become my owner. I hissed in pain as he dug his fingers into the cuts under my sleeve, pulling up a hand and grabbing my face, shoving his thumb into the tender bruise. He was a sadistic bastard, and proved to be equally as fucked in the head as I was.

"Got it?"

I nodded, getting a victorious chuckle from him as he let me go, walking past me with his friends and leaving me there with my thoughts. Once they were gone, I put my hand to my face, clenching my teeth. I tried to walk but only ended up falling to my knees, putting my hands on the floor and staring at them. I almost felt like this hadn't just happened, but I knew it did. Sasuke had just claimed ownership of my soul, like a devil. I try to amuse myself by thinking of him in a Church, burning alive. Cursing under my breath, I stood slowly, finding my balance before exiting the school.

Waiting for me outside, I found my brother and sister, walking right past them and ignoring everything they said. I stomped off the property of the school with my siblings close behind, confused and trying to question what was wrong. Once I was far enough away from the school, I stopped abruptly, looking at the sidewalk in my blinding rage. Temari and Kankuro stood behind me, I could feel their eyes on me, their voices bounced off my ears and I understood nothing they said.

My breath was heavy, and with an abnormally long inhale, I exhaled a powerful scream of fury, raising my head to the sky with my hands clutching my ears. I screamed until my lungs fought for air, breathing in loudly and lowering my gaze to the sidewalk again. A moment of silence surrounded us, until my brother piped up, saying something that the both of them were obviously thinking.

"Well then, that was.. odd."

Temari walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder and leaning down to look in my eyes. Her expression was full of concern, her eyebrows furrowed and her lips in a frown.

"Are you okay, Gaara?"

That was something I'd been dying to know for a while, and a great question to ask me in this moment.

At this point, the answer was surely a strong, harsh 'no'.

* * *

**A/N: **I assure you, this story is going to take an interesting turn.


	5. Quiet

**Chapter Five**

**Quiet**

* * *

Everything was quiet once I got home.

My siblings and I went our separate ways once we got in the door, they both went upstairs to their rooms and I ventured quietly into the kitchen. Opening the fridge door, I furrowed my brows at the growing lack of food. It was the beginning of the month, and of course, our food supply would only last a week if we were lucky.

Temari tried hard to fill the fridge in place of our father, but she just didn't get enough money. Her cheque at the end of the month could only do so much, and all the while she tried to keep money on hand in case of emergencies, or the occasional lunch. I started to feel bad for throwing up the lunch she bought me the other day, knowing that it was supposed to be a treat.

I grumbled to myself, shutting the fridge door and checking inside all the cupboards. It was really tiring that the four of us could live in this huge house, yet we couldn't afford a car, food, internet, cable, and barely even hydro or heat. I knew my father only got this house because he inherited it from my grandfather, as well as all the money he had saved throughout the years. I knew that money was supposed to go towards college for me and my siblings, and to help my father get himself on his feet so he could keep up the bills.

Thankfully for us, the entire mortgage was paid off, the only thing left was the hydro, heat, electricity, and property taxes. The good thing was, before my grandfather died, he made sure to pay off the property taxes for about six years. It's been five years since he died, so that left only one year left paid off. I was afraid of what that meant, since my father seemed to have no intention of using his inherited money for anything good.

Another thing my grandfather did was that he made it so my father could only get two thousand a month until that six years was up, so he didn't blow it all in one go. He must have known my father wouldn't be responsible, and it made me wonder what he was _really_ doing with all that money. I mean come on, no _food,_ no _internet,_ no_ cable,_ no _car, _and we had to use the water sparingly. That meant five minute showers every three days, not flushing the toilet after pissing, laundry once a month if we were lucky, and usually dirty dishes.

Not to mention the heat and electricity. Lights were only allowed on from the time the sun went down until about nine o'clock, save for trips to the bathroom in the night and the one lamp in the living room; which was for my father, of course. He hated the winter because that meant the lights were on at about four or five in the afternoon, that, and the heat. He never put the heat on, he would say 'get a blanket', or 'wear a sweater', until he was cold. Then there was summer, and let me just say this; we don't even own an air conditioner.

During the worst of summer heatwaves, my siblings and I would sleep in the basement. Thankfully the basement is pretty big and maze-like, so we didn't have to sleep anywhere near each other. My father would usually spend several days away from home, so I assumed he was at someone else's house, soaking up the cold under their air conditioners.

My father was a cheap, abusive sleaze ball. Instead of buying groceries, he would eat at friend's houses or beg the neighbors for food. He never offered anything to us, nor did he intend to share. I remember a time I made the mistake of eating something he was saving in the fridge. I couldn't help it, I was starving, I hadn't eaten for three days. I never made that mistake again.

If my father loved us, we would be living the high life right now. We would never go hungry, we could live like normal people, and we would be healthy. He didn't, however, because he was too busy doing _something_. What that something was, I had yet to figure out, but what I did know was he spent a lot of time drinking.

Looking up to the clock, I realized I had been standing in the kitchen for half an hour with my thoughts. Sighing and giving up, I walked out of the kitchen, aiming for the stairs and stopping when I heard my name being called. My heart started to race, and I was afraid I might have done something wrong again today. Slowly making my way into the living room, I kept my head low, glancing for only a second. "Yes...?"

"Do your homework."

Wishing I could glare, I nodded, turning around and walking to the stairs. I stopped again as I heard him start to speak, staying still and staring at the wall. Why couldn't he just leave me alone.

"Come show me in two hours."

I nodded again, racing up the stairs before he could say another word. Making it to my room unscathed, I shut the door and stood there for a moment. I looked around, my thoughts traveling back to when I was leaving school, when Sasuke made me his slave. Growling, I paced back and forth, trying to think of some way I could get out of it. Of course, I couldn't, which made me furious.

Before sitting at my desk, I went to grab my bag from beside my bed, where I always had it. I got confused, getting on my hands and knees, looking under the bed for my bag before realizing it wasn't there. I realized that in order to do my homework I got at the beginning of the week, I would have to have my bag. I started to bite my nails, tapping my fingers on the floor and trying to figure out what to do. Could I fake it?

Getting an idea, I stood, running to my desk and finding a blank piece of lined paper. I knew my work was a history assignment, so all I had to do was pull some good questions out of my ass and find some great answers out of my ass. I could do this, history was my best subject. Writing down the first question I could think of, I quickly answered it with what I knew to be correct. This was easy, I just had to remember things from class and write down the right answers.

Finishing before my two hours was up, and barely able to see since the sun was starting to go down earlier, I moved from my desk and started to organize my room to the best of my abilities. I thought of Sasuke again, wondering what he was going to make me do tomorrow. I knew he was going to make me humiliate myself in front of the whole cafeteria, not to mention he probably knew about my problem with crowds now. Which, of course, was why he must have been making me go to the cafeteria.

I pondered the thought of whether they bothered Naruto like this or not, since he was probably the second most hated person in the school. I doubted it, it always seemed like I got bullied enough for every other misfit in the school to be off Scott-free. Which I found funny, since every single person in this school were misfits. In fact, everyone in the world happened to be a misfit, I was just the favourite one to push around in this fucked up school.

When my two hours was up, I grabbed my pretend homework and left my room, walking down the stairs and stopping at the bottom. Was he going to fall for this? He never finished school, so how could he outsmart me? I smirked for a moment, then quickly shook off the mischievous look that had been on my face. I made my way slowly to the beginning of the living room, holding my paper in my hand and looking at my father in his chair. He didn't take his eyes from his book, holding a cup with brown liquid and ice swirling in it. Good, he was drinking, that meant his IQ level had to have dropped at least ten points.

"Come here."

With the invitation, I walked over to him cautiously, holding my paper to him once I was close enough. He put his drink down on the end table beside him, taking the paper and tilting his head up to look at it through his glasses. I fidgeted with the end of my shirt, waiting for him to speak. I was starting to get really nervous; I'd never faked my homework before.

"Hm, good."

My heart stopped. Was this really happening? He handed back my paper and turned his attention onto his book again, and I almost made the mistake of staying there. I started walking away, trying not to be too quick just so he didn't figure me out. Once I got near the stairs, I heard my name being called again, my eyes widening. I knew it was too good to be true.

"That's the best I've seen you do, Gaara."

Wait, did he just give me.. praise? I turned and looked at the entrance to the living room, glad he couldn't see me, the expression on my face surely one of surprise. Standing quietly for a moment, I took a deep breath in, holding the paper in a way that seemed as if it was keeping me alive. "Thank you..."

I waited a few seconds before escaping up the stairs, my mind trying to dig into what had just happened. Taking a few mental steps back, I walked through it, closing the door to my room and staring at the floor. I had just faked my homework, I gave it to my father to look at, and he thought it was the best work I've done yet. I couldn't help the grin that curled up on my face, putting my paper on my desk and contemplating the idea of finding a frame for it.

I should do this more often.


End file.
